A Tip of the Hand
by BrightBlueNinjas
Summary: "To reveal one's intentions inadvertently." War is coming, and the leaders of all four kingdoms have caused it with just a tip of the hand.
1. Preface

_Preface _

For as long as anyone could remember, there had been harmony.

The kingdoms had never gotten along as well as everyone wanted, but even through their differences, they worked well together. Each had their own branch, their own area of specialization, in which they focused on to the full extent.

Each kingdom chose an heir—a king or queen, though sometimes both—to rule over their kingdom. Out of all their responsibilities, their first was to harmony. To keep things the way they've always been and keep the land in harmony. It was a tiring system that we were tired of watching, yet it "worked."

Of course, it was horribly flawed. Every government is, yet the Kingdoms had refused to accept that. Slaves to their precious harmony, they continued to keep up a cycle of ongoing stupidity as ruler after ruler fell to boredom. In the name of harmony, monarchs with unbelievable potential have become just that: monarchs. Not leaders or innovators. No one was remembered as 'great' or 'wise' or 'kind.'

Yet nobody but us has seen the system's flaws, and nobody but us seemed to care. It works, and that's all that matters. As long as harmony exists between the kingdoms, all will be well.

It's ironic, really, how harmony was both the first to be born and the first to die.


	2. The Kingdom of Hearts

~ * ~ * One ~ * ~ *

The Kingdom of Hearts was known for its parties. The kingdom was always alight, filled with happy voices and music. It was the very birthplace of popular culture; the most populated kingdom, the brightest kingdom, and the kingdom everyone wanted to be in.

Yet its soon-to-be king, Ludwig Beilschmidt, was the loneliest man I'd ever seen.

Ludwig didn't seem to like anything the Kingdom of Hearts stood for. He was a quiet, somewhat brooding teenager who liked to be alone most of the time. Even right now, as the party's musi**c** was loud enough to wake the dead, he'd somehow escaped to the streets and found a dog to play with.

He wasn't sure whose dog it was, but it was a big German Shepard with big, pleading eyes and dirty fur that was matted to its skinny body. It didn't have a collar, so Ludwig took that as an invitation to take it home as soon as that stupid party was over. He played fetch with it for as long as the dog wanted to, and then sat down on the side of the road and settled to petting it.

Ludwig liked dogs. There wasn't a single person in the entire kingdom who didn't know that. What he didn't like was people.

From the stories he'd heard, his father had been the same. He hadn't been one for parties or fashion or bright lights. For that reason, the title of "king" had been passed over to his friend, Roman. Roman was the whole "Kingdom of Hearts" package—loud, social, extravagant, and fashionable. Ludwig didn't know why he didn't just pick one his own kids to be his heir.

Honestly, I've never seen a governmental system so obsessed with playing cards in my entire life. At some point in time, the current king was to pick an heir. They could choose any king and queen they wanted, regardless of actual blood relation to you. Kings and queens could each be of any race, age, or gender—if I remember correctly, the Kingdom of Clubs had a female king and a male queen on a single occasion. The king and queen can have any relation—romantic, friendly, or family. Whatever the case, all that mattered was that there was a king and queen, and that they were both natives to their kingdom.

Given the system, King Roman was at total liberty to pick whoever he wanted for the next king. And to everyone's surprise, he chose his best friend's son and Kiku Honda, the quiet boy that lived in one of the farthest towns from the castle.

Ludwig's father was overjoyed—probably. It was really hard to tell what that guy was feeling. Ludwig, on the other hand, didn't know what to feel. He couldn't exactly complain about being king, but he never saw himself as a political ruler. Maybe an army general or a soldier, but not a leader. When he spoke to the king about his worries, the king simply brushed him off and told him he'd be great.

Yet there was one person who agreed with Ludwig's worries to the greatest extent, and that was Roman's son, Lovino Vargas. It had been three years since Romano chose Ludwig instead of Lovino, and the boy still hadn't forgiven either of them for it. Sure, the most Lovino had ever done was call him names and scowl at him from across the hallway, but it still made Ludwig feel uneasy. He'd never had anyone hate him before, and especially not as much as Lovino did. All the same, it wasn't his fault he was chosen. If Lovino couldn't accept that, it was his own problem.

Three years of classes, of preparation, of parties, and waving to the public. Yet all Ludwig had to show for it was a Queen that he'd spoken too maybe twice, a boy that hated him more than anything that he was forced to live with, and about three dogs. Well, at least things weren't so bad.

The night was still young; it was only about nine thirty or so when Ludwig found a way to escape that dreadful party. Claiming he wanted a breath of fresh air, Ludwig made his way outside and simply stayed there until he figured everyone had forgotten his presence. He'd had to walk a good ways away from the castle in order to get away from the music, but he didn't mind.

Ludwig sighed, leaning back on his arms. The German Shepard whimpered in protest, laying its head on Ludwig's lap. Ludwig smiled, scratching it behind the ears.

"He's not gonna let you keep that one, you know."

Ludwig turned, and King Roman's youngest son, Feliciano Vargas, smiled at him.

Unlike his brother, Feliciano did hold a stance in the kingdom. The Jack of Hearts, though not as glamorous a title as king or queen, was just as important. Nearly. The Jack was the right hand man, tending to the every political need of the king and queen. Though it was a position often forgotten about, Feliciano seemed enthusiastic to do it, most likely due to his strong yet unexplained faith in Ludwig.

Ludwig turned his attention back to his dog. "Why not?"

"You already have two," Feliciano pointed out, taking a seat next to him. Funny how with all the people talking to him at once, all the people throwing questions at him that he couldn't even begin to answer, and the only one who noticed his absence was Feliciano.

"What's one more going to change?" Ludwig said, scratching the back of the dog's neck. The wag of the dog's tail indicated that their new friendship was mutual. "I'm going to call you Berlitz."

"If you name him, you'll just get attached," Italy sighed.

"He's mine, isn't he?" Ludwig reminded him.

They sat in silence for a bit, and Feliciano offered him a smile. "Let's go back to the party, ok?"

"You go ahead," Ludwig sighed. "I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood."

"That's because I don't like parties."

"But parties are fun!"

"Not to me they aren't."

"You're weird."

"I know. But that won't get me to go back to that god forsaken place."

Feliciano thought for a bit, and then grinned. "They have cake!"

Ludwig narrowed his eyes. "I don't care."

"What?!" Feliciano looked shocked, jumping back and looking at him, eyes wide and horror. "It's _cake_! _Everyone _likes cake! Hell, you even helped make it! Don't you want to eat some?!"

Ludwig shrugged. "It isn't worth it."

Feliciano gaped at him, as if the thought that cake "wasn't worth it" was the worst lie he'd ever heard. He looked like he was planning on retorting about the cake for a bit longer, and then sighed. "Please come back to the party with me, Ludwig."

Ludwig blinked, and then gritted his teeth. Feliciano knew he couldn't turn him down when he whimpered out the question and kept those big brown eyes of his on him. Looking down, Ludwig muttered. "Alright, let's go."

With a victorious squeal, Feliciano leapt up and grabbed Ludwig by the hand, dragging him up towards the castle. The Other and I watched as they left.

The Other Joker was younger than I, childlike in appearance with blue eyes and a mop of blond hair. He looked at me, smirking with somewhat of a devilish glee.

"This one?" he asked.

"I'm sure," I responded. I was quite fond of this Ludwig, and I wasn't one hundred percent sure as to why. "He's a king."

"He's a prince," The Other Joker corrected.

"But he will be,"

"I doubt it,"

* * *

_** Ok, these first few chapters are to act like kind of a prologue to introduce the four kingdoms and what not. I'll try to make them go by as fast as possible so we can get to the actual plot.**_

_**Image source: (zerochan) / 466344#full**_

**_In Shades of Blue,_**

**_Ninja_**


	3. The Kingdom of Diamonds

_~ * ~ * Two ~ * ~ *_

Of all of the kingdoms, the most appropriately named was the Kingdom of Diamonds. As the name suggested, they were extravagantly wealthy. This was the kingdom reserved for the richest—where the streets were "almost literally" paved with gold. They were the height of fashion; the trend-setters, the propaganda-makers, the people who claimed they donated to charity when they didn't really.

They were especially fond of propaganda, let me tell you. Since they were the kingdom who set ideas into everyone's heads, they figured they might as well do it in a creative way. They had a face for everything. The face of women's fashion was Victoria Bonnefoy. The face of evil—at least for the Kingdom of Diamonds—was the Kingdom of Spades. The face of music was the Kingdom of Clubs' Roderich Edelstein.

And the face of the Kingdom of Diamonds was none other than its king: Francis Bonnefoy.

Francis was known for everything that the Kingdom of Diamonds was proud of: money, art, music, and sex. Oh, _God_, especially the sex. If Francis had a legacy, it would be "sleep with anything that has legs. Well, the legs part is optional."

Francis was known for about eight sex scandals—he'd slept with the mayor's daughter, with a rich girl, with a poor boy, with a scientist. And he hadn't been condemned for a single one. If someone had wagged their finger at him, it would ruin his image, and that would ruin the fun. So the people of the kingdom would simply laugh and say "Oh, _Francis._"

He probably wouldn't have been known for any of those things if his Queen hadn't been so young. Lilli Zwingli was going to be fourteen when her birthday came around, while Francis had just turned twenty-six. Noted, being King and Queen did not necessarily mean that they had to have a romantic relationship. Still, everyone found it odd for them to have an age gap of thirteen years.

Nobody questioned the way the Kingdom of Diamonds did things, no matter how odd it was. They were the only kingdom to wait for a ruler to die before they chose a new one—every other kingdom made their current king choose the next king and queen during their reign. That would give the new ones a good amount to time to get used to ruling, fame, and being an overall political ruler. In the Kingdom of Diamonds, the next king and queen were announced when the last king's will was read.

Francis was thirteen when he was chosen to be king, and Lilli was a newborn. Lilli made sense—her grandfather had been the previous king. Respectively, her older brother (who was only a bit younger than Francis at the time) had been deemed the Jack of Diamonds. The oddest part was Francis. He'd never met the man in his entire life.

Though it was weird, Francis never bothered to question the king's choice. The Kingdom of Diamonds was random and unpredictable, unlike any other kingdom, which usually followed a code of some sort. There was the Kingdom of Hearts, who never chose their own children to be king or queen. There was the Kingdom of Spades, who always made sure that their king and queen were blood related. There was the Kingdom of Clubs, who chose the physically strongest to be their king and queen. The Kingdom of Diamonds, for all anyone knew, could've just chosen names out of a hat.

Whatever the reason, Francis loved his newfound fame. Even as a thirteen-year-old who was pulled out of school, he blew kisses at the crowd and made promised he had no intention of keeping. Vash—their Jack of Hearts and Lilli's older brother—had put the task of raising Lilli on himself, and Francis let him. He didn't know his young queen all that well; they only really started speaking recently, when she was deemed old enough to understand. In that case, he'd discuss simple political matters with her and stand next to her whenever they greeted the crowds.

Anyways, the Kingdom of Diamonds had placed its monarchs' home—the Palace of Diamonds—right on the edge of their territory, and just a ten or so minute walk away from the Diamonds-Spades border. According to legend, that was because the first King of Spades and the first King of Diamonds liked to throw rocks at each other from across the border.

There was a wall that divided their two territories, you see. It was about fifty feet high, and legend said it used to be smaller. The story goes that the third King of Diamonds had thrown the rock a little too hard and her (the Diamonds' king had, ironically, been female at this time. Diamonds are a girl's best friend, I suppose) aim had been off, hitting the King of Spades on the head and killing him. For this reason, the wall had been made higher so that communication over the wall would be made impossible.

Well, not entirely impossible.

Francis remembered the day specifically—it was the very same day he'd been crowned king. He'd been playing ball in the castle yard when it hit the wall, and surprisingly, a brick moved.

There was a crack in the wall; the stones moved aside ever so slightly for one to be able to see the Kingdom of Spades on the other side. It was a stupid idea, one only a child would make. Given, Francis was a child, at the time. He'd taken a piece of paper and written a single word on it—"hello." Then he'd stuck in the space and came back to check the next morning.

A note was there, and when he'd opened it, he'd found neater handwriting and a new message: "hi."

Their conversations started out simple. "How are you?" "I'm good. You?" "I'm fine. What do you like to do?" "Paint, play soccer."

It was when they got to know each other did the notes get more in-depth. When Francis was thirteen, the notes were a single sentence. When he was fourteen, it was a paragraph. When he was fifteen, it was two paragraphs. And now, at the age of twenty-six, he was counting the notes by the pages. Well, I suppose they counted as letters, now.

He began to discover things about his pen pal—his name was Arthur, he grew up in the villa outside of the Palace of Spades, he liked to cook but only for himself because no one else could possibly appreciate his culinary skills, and he had a wild imagination. And Francis loved every bit of it.

Arthur's notes had rapidly become the highlight of his days. He would go there every afternoon, move the stones, find the letter, and then spend at least half an hour writing a reply. Talking to Arthur was so easy; Francis felt as if he couldn't speak this naturally or this honestly to anyone but him.

Yet Francis doubted he was ever even going to meet Arthur. Security between the walls was high—there was one gate, for starters, and that was on the other side of the kingdom. It was nearly impossible to travel between kingdoms, and even harder to immigrate from one kingdom to another. Between the passports, visas, security checks, background checks, and 'history of the kingdom you're trying to move to' tests, most people would rather just stay home. Now, that was all for a civilian. Francis didn't want to think about how bad it would be for a king like him.

Then there was the topic of publicity. Francis had the entire Kingdom of Diamonds watching and monitoring his every move. If they caught him trying to get into the Kingdom of Spades—the kingdom that everyone in his own kingdom hated with all their hearts—his image would be ruined permanently. He couldn't risk that, not even if it meant finally getting to meet Arthur.

Even so, that didn't discourage Francis in the slightest. He liked Arthur too much, and he knew that Arthur felt the same. Security had to be just as tight as it was on his side of the wall, yet he still responded to his letters. That made their positions clear: they were each other's little secret. Little-big secret.

The Other and I watched from atop the wall, as Francis moved the stone to collect the letter. "This one?" The Other Joker asked.

"I'm sure," I responded, watching as Francis opened the letter, sat down, and began to read. "He doesn't know."

"He doesn't," The Other Joker agreed.

"But he will," I insisted.

"And he won't care,"

"I doubt it,"

* * *

**_I am so sorry this update took 1,000 years only for it to be a lot shorter than the last chapter. But hopefully chapter three will be up a lot quicker. _**

_**In Shades of Blue,**_

_**Ninja **_


End file.
